


Steam

by SageMarshallWorks



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dystopia, Fantasy, Gen, Original Fiction, Original Story - Freeform, Original Universe, Steampunk, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMarshallWorks/pseuds/SageMarshallWorks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>19 year old Cade Laminar finds himself a public figure in the eyes of his government after a terrible disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Steam is the working title for this original book. I've been working on it for over a year now and decided it'd be a good idea to start posting chapters. Feel free to leave comments and criticisms. Thanks!

Chapter 1

  
  


The trees shuddered in the harsh winds that echoed throughout the valley. The sky cleared, letting the cold sunlight touch its rays against the winter snow.  A massive lake stood near the base of the mountains, surrounded by pine trees, sprouting into many finger-like rivers. It had frozen over several months ago, stopping all trade to those living on the other side. The surrounding mountains were blanketed, showing only a mere fraction of the rock that lay beneath. These picturesque vistas makes up  most of Drania, the realm in which all living things live with a facade of utopia.

By the glassy lake stood a mansion, constructed of stone, embellished with woodwork, and finished with brass, billowing smoke from the chimneys that stood on both sides. The arched windows made way for natural light, however the frost blocked most, creating a murky veil between the natural world and the pristine living conditions within. Nothing but the best inside, rugs imported from distant lands, upholstery crafted out of the most expensive fabrics.  

This house belonged to the Laminar family, a proud group of nobles, who owned most of the shops in the nearby town of Crestbrook. Their wealth extended past real estate, as they were also renowned traders. Fishing and selling their catch through the use of employed workers had built their business empire from the ground up.

       Alek Laminar, the head of the household, was a strong and confident man, who started the business with the aid of his wife Lana, a beautiful woman, past her prime but still maintaining that youthful allure. Her flowing blonde hair was usually pulled up and restrained by an expensive charm. Their three children Jenna, Liane and Cade lived in the home obediently following their rules. The family’s strict structure of etiquette and class ensured the most well behaved of kids.

The snow fell gently, slowly covering more of the landscape in powdered ice. Cade Laminar, who was the eldest of the three children, stepped out of the house, wearing nothing fitted to the climate; just a white button down and cap, with dark trousers held in place by thick strapped suspenders. Pushing the massive wooden door out of his way and closing it behind him he made his way into the knee deep field of snow. The winter air pushed against him, tightening his grip to the weapon he held in his hand, a Victorian  era hunting rifle, with wood and brass finish that matches the aesthetic of the family house.

He walked about a quarter of a mile in the snow, across a cobble bridge that lay over a frozen stream, down a path strewn with branches, until he made his way to the massive lake which sewn shut by the drastic temperatures. A wooden dock stood still on the ice, at the edge was a figure. A svelte girl with curly crimson hair that she let lay long in the back secured with a bow. She wore a green, ruffled Victorian  gown that stopped right below her knees and met by a pair of sturdy black boots.

“Cade!” The silky voice yelped from the dock. It is clearly filled with pure excitement by Cade’s mere presence.  

“Emily!” He called back as he ran towards her; she mimicked this gesture until the two meet at the middle of the dock, finally holding each other in an inseparable embrace. “It’s been so long.” He whimpered through the chattering of his teeth. Cade gazed into her green eyes waiting for a response, but she didn’t. She instead removed his cap, brushed his dirty blonde hair out of the way and kissed him, something she hadn’t been able to do in too long.

“I thought you’d never get back.” Emily said after breaking the long anticipated kiss. “How was it?”

“Incredible!” Cade answered, “Sorden was indescribable! I wish you could have seen it at night.”

Emily smiled at his playful attempts to make her jealous. “The big city, I can’t even imagine how beautiful it must’ve been! You know I’ve always wanted to go.” She takes a moment to take in the imagery conjured in her mind.  “How was your father?”

Cade’s playful attitude melted immediately. “He’s a good man and I enjoyed having him by my side, but he’s very strict, too much if I do say so myself.”

“It seems like things might be getting better between you two though. I see he let you use his gun.” She says, referring to the rifle in Cade’s hand. He had almost forgotten about it.

“It’s a ‘peace offering.’ I can have it as long as I take over the business.” Cade examines his father’s gift, “I’m still not completely sold. He doesn’t care about what I want to do.”

“And what do you want to do?” Emily asks innocently.

“I already told you.”

“No you haven’t.” She thinks about this for a moment, “You’ve said that you want to travel, but not how, or why.”

“Enough!” Cade shouted. Emily backs off, grasping her wrist as a way to cope with what he’d just done. He looked at her, noticing her discomfort, feeling ashamed he added, “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to talk about this right now.” Emily nods, an unspoken sign that she understands.

“That thing loaded?” she asked, again referring to the gun. Cade’s promising smile is her cue. She reaches her hand into one of the rusted fishing buckets left about, and pulls out a cleaned mussel shell. With a steady pitch, the shell went flying across the lake. Now it’s Cade’s turn to partake in this game, he raises the gun and squeezes the trigger, sending a bronze bullet into the air and through the target. The black mussel shell falls instantly onto the ice, shattering on impact. “Nice!” Emily comments, unsuccessfully masking her true feeling of how impressed she really was, “it’s loud."

“It is,” Cade reexamined the rifle, taking note of the designs engraved into the brass framework, “I was barely expecting it to work.”

“Well it is your father’s most prized possession,” She laughed as she picks up another mussel, “ready for another?”

Cade smiles at her enthusiasm, for being equally as rich as his family, she had an inherent wild side. He grabbed the shell out of her hand and replaced it with his own, putting his rifle down for a moment. “Come on,” he insisted, “I have something for you back at my house.”

“A gift?” she giggled girlishly, blushing profusely, “unnecessary, but what the hell, I’m thrilled!” The youthful girl tightened her grasp on his hand as he led her through the snow and to his family’s house.

For the first minute or so, they walked in silence, listening to the sounds of winter and occasionally looking into each other's eyes. The blue of his met with the green of hers before she broke the stillness. "Do you remember when we first met?"

Cade looked at her again, he was confused, but instinctually answered, “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know.” she answered, “I’m glad you do.”

The lovers met three years ago, when they were both sixteen. It was at one of Lord Marek ’s famous dinner parties. Lord Marek was a large man, in both height and weight; he made his vast fortune working for the government. He was sporting his red coat and an ivory walking stick, which was mostly for show. This man also happened to be Emily’s father, spoiling her at every chance he got.

Classical music filled the great house, but it was quiet out on the balcony, where Emily was taking in the view, her magenta dress flowing in the Spring breeze. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” She spoke without looking back, but somehow knowing that someone unfamiliar was behind her. She was, of course, referring to the black landscape, glittering with gas lamps in the distance.   

       “It is.” Cade replied, standing in the doorway, “how did you know I was here?”

She smiled, turning around to answer face-to-face. “You’re very loud.” Cade now returned the playful smile, both overwhelmed with the encounter. That evening was filled with flirtatious jokes and awkward pauses before an intimate kiss ensued.

       The couple finally reached the great wooden door of the Laminar   Mansion, pushing the frozen brass handles inward, they made their way inside. Even the foyer of the house was immaculate with dark wood floors, chandeliers light with fine candles, and a grand wrap around staircase.

       “Hello?” Cade called to anyone who might be in the house, “is anyone here?”

Sian, the family's maid ran to him almost immediately, greeting him with a warming hug, “Cade! Oh! Welcome home, sweetie. How was your trip?”

“It was great, thank you.” He responded, modestly. Sian was not human, but rather Brethet, one of the elf-like creatures from the north. Her pale blue skin matched her eyes perfectly, making her a once gorgeous woman, but sadly withered by years of hard work. She had been loyal to the family for a long time, practically raising the children with Mrs.Laminar  .

“Hello, Emily. You kids must be freezing, come to the kitchen, I have broth on the fire.” She ushered them down the hall and to a large kitchen, lined with brick and lit with the same candles from the foyer. In the brick fire pit was an ebony cauldron, filled to the top with Sian’s soup.

The kids took their bowls with much gratitude, sharing stories around the table with the maid as they ate. Cade was in the middle of a riveting tale when the back door flew open, making way for Arner and Mak, two Gekorian lizard men who worked as the house’s groundskeepers. Arner was an older man, with gray scales common amongst his kind. Mak was his son and apprentice, about four years younger than Emily and Cade. They too served the Laminar  s loyally, living together in a single bedroom in the east wing of the house.

“Greetings, Cade! I didn't know you and your father were back so soon.” Arner said in his salty voice.

“We came back late last night.” Cade corrected.

“Did good business I assume.”

Cade looked down at his steaming soup, reluctant to acknowledge his statement, “yes, very good.”

“Ah, those city folk will buy anything you hawk at them.” Arner took a deep inhale, catching whiff of of the broth. “is it ready, Sian?”

Sian jumped up from her seat and smacked away Arner’s hands before he could taste it, “It’s for the family! Not grubby servants such as yourself.” The young couple couldn’t help but laugh at the bickering between the staff. “Your mother’s in the den, dear.” Sian said to Cade, “I think they’d like you to say ‘hello’.”

They got up from the table, pushed in their chairs and climbed the grand stairs to the den, where Lana Laminar   sat by the fire with Cade's little sisters, Jenna and Liane. Liane was sixteen, with dark hair unlike that of her sister and mother. Jenna was a perky little eight year old in a pink dress, her golden hair was curled, obviously by her mother. “Cade!” she squealed, as she ran across the room to give her brother a big hug. Lana and Liane followed her, both suppressing their excitement at seeing the boy.

       The fireplace on the farthest wall cast a strange array of shadows across the pinewood walls. Lana grabbed Emily’s hand and offered her a seat beside her on the loveseat. They discussed every tedious detail of her life, much to Emily’s dismay. This was a game that Lana would play quite often; see how long Emily was willing to sit through her ramblings.

       Every so often, Cade gave her looks filed with apologies while he was catching up with his sisters.  Emily had not forgotten about her promised gift, making the entire experience all the more brutal. Finally, after fifteen grueling minutes, Cade took it upon himself to save his girlfriend.   

       “My apologies, mother,” he politely interrupted, “Emily and I have to get going.”

       “Of course you do,” she said doubtfully. She then bid goodbye to both her son and his girlfriend, and watched them walk out the door.

       Once alone in the hallway, Cade was able to apologize for the seemingly never ending family reunion.

       “I don’t mind it,” Emily reassured, “I enjoy a challenge.”

They laughed and together while they stroll down the wide halls to Cade’s bedroom on the other side of the house. Her eagerness could barely be contained; she scanned the walls on their way examining each painting. They varied in interest, one was depicted a man fishing in the early morning, another of an impoverished woman cradling her newborn baby.  

Beyond the double doors was a sprawling bedroom, with a lit fireplace in the corner and a king-sized bed up against the wall. By the Large window was a set of matching chairs and loveseat. It was a bedroom fit for a kind, let alone the son of a businessman.

Emily sat at the edge of the extensive bed, feeling the intricate woodwork on the beams that supported the canopy while Cade fished through the drawers of his dresser in search of the gift he had promised.

“What’s the earliest your memory can remember?” Emily asked, again breaking the gentle silence that between them.

Cade reacted to this question with curiosity, he was unsure as to why she is asking these types of questions. “I don’t remember.”

Emily laughed, “Well that’s the question. What is the oldest one you can remember?”

Cade sighed before giving the best answer he could, “I was very young, two I think. But I distinctly remember this strange woman feeding me milk from one of those glass bottles.”

“Do you know who the woman was?”

“No,” he mumbled bitterly, “I know that she was beautiful, and that she wore this gold necklace, but that’s about it.” It’s apparent, by the look on her face that his answer upset Emily, but she remained calm, waiting for her gift.

In an instant, Cade produced a small wooden box from the dresser. It was tied with a pink ribbon and latched with a simple gold clip. The inscription on the top read, “Sorden Manufacturing: Handle with care!” Cade handed the polished box over to Emily, who took a moment before opening it.

The inside was lined with red velvet and in the middle, placed neatly on a miniature pillow was a golden watch, tied to a thick golden neck chain. It was engraved on the front with the letter “E”. Emily clicked the button on the top which opened it, revealing a white clock face, scattered with the usual twelve digits in ascending order. The metallic hand clicked into place over the “five” at the same moment the grandfather clock, which stood proudly by the door, chimed the sound of five o’clock.

“Oh my gods!” she gasped, “This is gorgeous!” He proceeded to tighten the chain around her neck, letting it dangle above her heart.  

“Every day in Sorden I thought of you.” she smiled at his flirtatious witt, “at night, the sky was filled with zeppelins and airships, I knew you would love it. I plan on taking you there one day, but I figured, for the time being, a simple piece of the city would suffice.”

She was at a loss for words, she couldn’t say “thank you” enough, and so for her gratitude she kissed him, over and over. Soon they found themselves lying on the bed, as Cade unties the olive-green ribbons that suspended her dress. Emily assisted in doing the same for Cade, removing his suspenders and soon the rest of his clothes.

It was hours later when Cade finally woke up. Outside it was dark, the clock read, “eleven thirty-three”. Emily way curled up by his side, under the blankets and completely naked. Cade got out of the bed, careful not to wake her, and threw on comfortable undergarments in an attempt to cover his nudity.

He crossed the dark floors to the grand fireplace that stood in the corner. On the mantle was a small device, constructed mostly of copper and paneled with wood that fit easily in his hand when he picked it up. With a clockwise twist of the cog wheel that lay in the center the device sparked to life creating a small flame at the head. A faint hum rung out, not loud enough to wake anyone, but still clearly audible.

With the flame, Cade bent down to the logs resting in the hearth and lit them ablaze. The room filled with the shuttering, warm light, easily recognized as fire. It was the only source of heat in the drafty mansion.

The boy examined the details of the device carefully, feeling each marking with the tips of his figures. Engraved on the center cog was the Laminar   crest, a traditional cursive "L" surrounded by elegant designs. It was seen on most items in the house, all hand made for the family.

"Cade?" The familiarly silky voice came from the bed. Emily sat up with the sheets draped sensually around her body. She was making no attempt to protect her modesty at this point, her assets bare in the darkness. "Come back to bed." She finished.

"In a moment, my love." He answered. Although a good response, it was not the one she was hoping for. Emily desired a connection with him, leading her to get up from the warmth of the bed. She wrapped the sheet around herself and walked over to the wooden fireplace.

"What's that?" She asked, acknowledging the wood and copper divide in his hand.

"An ignighter." He told her, "my father gave it to me after one of his trips."

She grabbed the ignighter from his hands, getting a look to herself. "Your father loves giving you little nick-knacks, doesn't he?"

"He collects them," Cade said, laughing to himself at her perceptive joke, "it's sort of a hobby of his. Collecting random junk."

"I think it's sweet." She gave the device back to him, before asking, "where is your father, anyway?"

"Working late, no doubt."

Emily noticed the pained look hidden on his face. "Does that bother you?"

Cade laughed at her question, "why should it?"

She didn't have an answer, nor did she need one. It was apparent that it was time to let it go. "Are you coming back to bed?"

"In a second. I promise I'll be right there."

"Round two?" she asked with a playful wink. The nude girl let her red loose, corkscrew curls lay down on all sides; her emerald eyes were illuminated by the fire making her look beyond gorgeous.

"Of course." Cade responded, coldly. Emily was taken aback by his off-putting demeanor. However, she kissed him on the cheek and got back in bed, leaving Cade alone.

The stairs creaked with every step as Cade descended into the darkness. He held the ignighter, lit, in his hand as a makeshift form of light. Once at the bottom he made his way into the kitchen.

The stone floors were cold beneath his feet, except near the oven, where Sians', soup was simmering. It was beyond dark in most corners of the room, until Cade lit the candles on the wall. He himself didn't know why he was here or what to do. His distress and cold disposition was brought by the question that Emily asked on the dock, "And what do you want to do?" He didn't know, but he knew that a future as a businessman would destroy him from the inside out.

Out of the darkness of hallway came a bellowing voice reduced to a whisper. "What are you doing up?" Alek Laminar stood there in a classic, Victorian , business suit. He had dark hair brushed to the side in a manner similar to Cade's. The man walked over to Cade, who was sitting at the counter, walking with a sense of accomplishment.

"Hello, father." Cade said dutifully.

"I was talking to Lord Marek " he begun a brutal inquisition, "he said his daughter didn't come home tonight. Do you know anything about this, Cade?"

"Yes" he swallowed, "Emily is here, asleep in my room."

"Of course she is." He laughed at Cade's amount of fear, "do you think I didn't know that?" Cade looked down in shame, he knew he had no answer for his father's questions. "You know I don't approve of these 'premarital encounters.’"

"I know, father, I'm sorry." Cade begun a desperate plea for forgiveness.

Alek cut in, not allowing his son to continue, "I know you are." He sighed heavily, "I also know, no matter how many times we have this conversation, you will continue to disobey me. If you are going to break the rules, can you at least stand by your actions? None of this cowering in fear, nonsense."

Cade was confused, before understanding what he was saying, "right, father."

They talked for awhile, about the future, the weather, nothing to profound. All was well until Alek asked "How are you enjoying the rifle I gave you?"

Cade froze up, realizing he had left his father's hunting rifle in the snow, to be covered in the midnight layer. "Yes, father. It's beautiful, thank you."

"I've put a lot of time into that piece of weaponry. I've always known I'd give it to my first born one day." He told Cade, as if the guilt wasn't already killing him.

Alek went on about the weapon for a while longer, all the while Cade was cursing himself out within his own mind. the imagery if his father’s gift laying in the snow was too much to handle at this time. Finally the businessman finished talking to his son, “it’s late,” he told Cade, “I’m going to sleep now. You should do the same.” His father climbed the stairs slowly to the master bedroom of the great house, giving Cade the time he needed to retrieve the gun.

The boy ran to the closet, pulling out a thick, black, coat. It fell just an inch or two below his waist, tightened with descending, brass buttons. Underneath he wore a white, dress shirt, matched with dark trousers and heavy boots. With his flat cap covering his blonde hair he ran out the door, still using the ignighter as a light source.

He ran faster as he got closer, again, over the cobble bridge which had been blanketed in a fresh layer of snow that continued falling gently from the sky. At this point he was getting closer to the dock, he could see it in the distance. The icey lake created a reflected blanket of every star in the night sky, illuminating the land.

When he reached the dock the gun was nowhere to be seen, obviously coated in the new fallen snow. He felt around in the freezing powder, his hand turning blue until he, at last, felt the cold metal on the rifle. Cade lifted it from  it’s white prison and gave it a long look. His face denoted all the signs of relief.

Alek’s weapon didn’t seem too badly damaged from the outside, but inwardly it was filled with water and frozen over. He loaded the rifle as he’s done before as a test. Grabbing one of the stray mussels, he chucked it across the ice, took aim and fired. The shiney, black, shell exploded in the air upon colliding with the bullet.

Satisfied with the results of the test Cade took off for home, running faster than he had before; he had just remembered Emily, who was waiting for him back in the bed. He imagined her silky skin feeling him up and down. The fantasy made him break into a fast sprint, he couldn’t wait any longer to reunite with his love.

The air was thick, the once fresh winter sky had turned to a gray mist. The closer he got to the house the darker and more potent the fog became. His heart begun to race, a dark fear crept upon him as he dashed through the layers of snow.

At the edge of the road was the great Laminar   mansion, now consumed in a whirl of explosive flames. Black smoke billowed, not only from the chimneys anymore, but the entire building. Cade watched in horror as his home was consumed by the grasp of fire, piece by piece the manor crumbled into the frigid snow.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

  
  


Dozens of people from the nearby town watched the empire collapsed in on itself. Cade joined the group of terrified citizens.

“How did this happen?!” One woman screamed, reveling in the tragic scene.

“Who would do this?” Inquired a man, still in his sleepwear. Cade was wondering the same thing.

The boy’s glassy, blue eyes reflected the light of death. His first instinct was to hunt. Maybe his family escaped. It’s possible they were in the same crowd. Accordingly so, he scoured the flock, hoping to find at least one familiar face. The only recognizable one was a blue Brethet, Sian, who had gone home several hours before this.

“Cade!” the kindly housemaid called. She ran to the warming embrace of her former employers’ son. “How? How did this happen?” Her eyes were filled with tears, not only for the people inside the house but for Cade.

“I don’t know.” He was holding back, “Where is the fire brigade? Why haven’t they come to help?!”

Sian turned to the house again, “They’re station's about ten miles into the town, they won’t be here for at least another half hour. I’m so sorry, Cade.” The poor woman lost control, she was inconsolable.

He looked at the fiery remains of his home, most of the structure still stood, besides the roof caving in. Windows popped from the intensity of the heat, letting out a sound that was previously trapped within the confines of the house. “Help!” It was an easily recognizable voice, a young woman screaming for her love, “Cade!”

Cade handed his rifle to Sian and charged for the door. “Where are you going?” the maid called, but there was no reply at this moment.

The front door was spewing smoke from all sides, Cade immediately went for the iron door handle. With a firm grasp his hand was sin

ed, “Gods damn it!” he shouted in immense pain. He knew wallowing in self pity wasn’t going to do a thing and with several hard kicks to the door, Cade had gained access.

Rafters, smothered in flames, begun to creak under the weight of the second floor. The love stricken boy burst past the foyer narrowly missing the collapse of the chandelier and hauled himself up the stairs, each step weaker than the last. By the third to last step, the floor had broken free and dropped to the ground, leaving a hole about five steps wide. Cade hung by the threadlike grip if his fingers, with every ounce of strength he pulled his body to safety on the upper level.

“Emily” he yelled, but there was no answer, he walked down the hall at a brisk pace with every expectation of finding his girlfriend’s burned corpse. “EMILY!” he yelled again, even louder than before.  

To his fortune, a muffled cough came from his bedroom, “Cade! I’m here!” He turned the corner in a furious sprint to find Emily trapped in the large bedroom. Her only exit was blocked by the fallen grandfather clock which was set ablaze. The flames were too high for her to make a move over the obstacle and there was no other way around.

She was dressed again, this time in the lingerie that was under her green dress. A short, knee length, white, dress with matching corset. Her gold watch still strung around her neck at heart level. Cade noticed the missing bed sheet, deducing that it was a failed attempt at escape made by a desperate girl.

The two lovers had made eye contact once more through the flames. She was trembling, even in the heat of the flames. “What happened?” Cade yelled.

“I don’t know!” She was serious, lost and confused.

He looked around the hallway for anything that could help Emily. It seemed futile, there was no way to move the clock without losing a hand. He noticed an expensive living chair set in the corner of the hall, he begun to bark orders, “Move to the back of the room!” Emily dutifully ran to the farthest edge of the bedroom waiting for whatever Cade had planned.

He picked a finely, upholstered, chair and started slamming it against the already weak wall. In his efforts Cade exhausted the chair, smashing it before the wall. At the ready, he grabbed the next one and begun to do the same. Unfortunately his attempt failed, the broken chairs had only been able to make a small hole in the wall and Emily was still in immense danger.

“I promise i will get to you,” he told her from the other side. The fire begun to swell, engulfing the hallway and soon Cade, “Emily, if you are listening. I love you.” he was defeated, in sorrow he leaned against the heated wall and slumped to the floor. “I failed you.”

In a moment filled with fear, a wooden pole gouged an even larger hole in the rampart between the lovers. Emily had taken the bed’s beams and jammed them through, creating a large enough hole for her to squeeze through. “A little help?” she smiled. Cade grabbed her arms and pulled her free with great passion. At last they could hold each other, if only briefly, before they had to escape.

“I heard your parent’s down the hall!” she ensured, “If we hurry, we could still help them!” They gave each other nods of recognition before rushing down the halls. They passed heaps of burning objects, the paintings, the furniture, even the very framework of the building.

They arrived at the master bedroom not a moment too soon, where Lana and Alek huddled together with their two daughters. Liane and Jenna weeped in their parents’ arms, fearful of what they both knew was coming.

“Mother!” Cade continued, “father, what are you doing? We need to go!” His father did not speak, simply gestured to his right, where a weakened, wood column sat on a trembling floor and supported a blackened ceiling.

“We tried to go,” he explained, “if one of us moves the whole bloody thing comes down.”

Cade scoffed at his father’s protests, “That’s no excuse, let’s go!”

Lana looked at her son, “we love you, sweetheart, you need to know that and live a happy life. I give you two my blessing.”

“Mother!” he shouted, more furious than ever, “get the fuck over here! You’re not going to stay here and accept death because you’re too scared to move!”

The somber Lana was shocked at her son’s approach, nevertheless, she got up slowly, helping her daughters up as well. Alek was the last to stand, giving a simple order, “we’re going to move together.”

They family agreed to this and with one, fragile, step the ceiling caved in. The pile of wood crushed the Laminar   girls and their parents. “Mother! Father!” Cade shouted. The weight upon the floor grew with each piece of rubble and soon it too dropped to the ground level.

“Cade! We have to go!” Emily took charge and rushed him to the stairs. The pair ran on flaming rugs to the old staircase, Cade first. He hurdled the gap that nearly cost him his life less than fifteen minutes ago. Without looking Emily charged down the stairs and with that fatal error she slipped through the crack and landed on the burning floor below. Her innocent body was devoured by the flames.

“EMILY!” Cade cried, “EMILY!” again, reaching for her lifeless body in vain. It took another shutter of the house for him to get up and continue out the door.

The broken fighter had finally made his way back to the freezing, winter realm. Tears rushed down his face uncontrollably. There was no consolation for his loss, nothing to help him.

Sian ran to him with a handmade quilt her bony hands. She lovingly wrapped it around the man, patting his back to the beat of her own sobs. With help from other townsmen she was able to get him on his feet and guide him down the icy roads to her small village home in Crestbrook.

His boots slushed every step of the way, making it increasingly harder to get him to safety. The warm embrace of her house welcomed the two, heartbroken companions. Sian laid Cade on her bed and herself at the dinning chair. The house wasn’t much, but it was a place to stay, a loving home, and a place for the singed man to sleep.

The sun brought the room to life at the peak of dawn, it was then, that Cade woke to the smell of Sian’s cooking. He was groggy, weary with burn marks covering his feeble body.

Getting out of the uncomfortable bed, he dressed himself, again, in his tattered clothes.  The white linen still held its smoky aroma. He looked down at his right hand with his foggy eyes. On it were intricate brands, left behind from the iron door knob, scorched from the flames.  He felt the rigid marks with his left hand, taking in the immense pain.

“Cade,” came a tired voice from below. Sian called again, “sweetie, your breakfast is ready.”

He descended the creaky stairs to Sian's kitchen, which was filled with the smell of freshly prepared beef. Cade sat at the old wooden table with no words.

“How are you doing?” She asked respectfully as she served him his meal.

“You don’t have to serve me anymore,” he muttered, “I’m no better than you now.” He was in a state of silenced shock.

“I know how you feel,” Sian reassured, “I know what it’s like to lose someone. And how hard it is to move on.”

Cade gave her a quizzical look, “How do you know?”

She sighed, “Have you ever wondered why I was never married?” He shook his head, “of course not, why should you? Well I was. My husband was a Camor.” Cade’s eyes widened, what she had just told him was a shock.

Camors were a breed bulky, hairy men and women, and most importantly, they were of a different species than Sian. This type of behavior had been illegal for nearly seven decades.

“When the city found out, they sentenced him to death,” she began to sob, “the very next day I watched, as my only love was pummeled to death with stones by the very people I once respected.”

“I’m sorry.” he blurted out, “I had no idea.”

Outside, the light had started to fade, replacing it with a blackened sky. “What’s that?” Cade asked in horror.

“It’ nothing,” she reassured, “simply the waste from the factories.”

He looked at her one more, confused, “factories?” He questioned.

Sian opened the front door, allowing Cade to step in front of her. She then pointed to the four, brick building in the distance, each one spewing black tufts of pollution. “You’ve been to Sorden. You should know all about these things.”

“Yes, I know.” he told her, “I just wasn’t aware it stretched into Crestbrook.”

“Maybe you should’ve gotten out more often.” She started to clean the dishes back at the house. “It takes a real fool to not know what dirty deeds go down eight miles from his home.”

Her mood had turned, from the cheerful housemaid, to a somber, bitter survivor. “Cade,” she started, “yesterday I heard you telling Emily about Sorden, and how beautiful it was.”

“Yeah?” Cade answered.

“Why did you lie?” She was referring to the fact that Sorden was a filthy, industrious city. This counteracts the fantasy world he described to his girlfriend.

“I wanted her to have something to look forward to.” He admitted, “Mainly, a future with me.”

Sian was outraged, “So you used that poor girl? Filled her naive head with lies for your own personal--”

Cade cut her off, “It wasn't like that! Emily wasn't naive and I did not lie to her!”

The battered Brethet broke down into tears once more. “I’m so sorry, Cade” she blubbered, “We can’t turn against each other.”

“It’s ok.” He consoled her the best he could.

“Are you going to leave? Because you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”

“I’m going to Sorden.” He told her, “I met a man in the nightlife district when I was there with my father.”

“Then?” She worried for his safety.

“My connection will help me.” Cade assured.

“When are you leaving?”

“Within the hour, hopefully.”

Sian grabbed him tight, pulling him in for an uplifting embrace. “Be safe.” Soon after these kind words she reached into a drawer and produced a small, copper case. Within it were gold Drans, the currency of Drania in the form of gold coins, equating to a solid six hundred dollars by modern standards. The exterior was etched with the likeness of the Laminar   house.

“I can’t take this.” He told her, grateful for the offer.

Sian places the gift in his hand,“I'd bet you’ll find it more useful.” Cade studied the coins, each one with a notable face of power on it. He thanked her for everything, and started out the door.

“Wait.” she ordered, “how do you plan on getting there?”

He shrugged, “I guess walk. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Walk?” Sian scoffed, “it’s a five day walk at least. Especially in this weather.” The gentle Brethet walked to her desk and produced a single sheet of Laminar   stationary. She quickly scribbled something and handed the contents to Cade. “Here. He can help you.”

Handwritten on the paper was an address, “4th street. Bay 10.” Cade crumpled the note into his pants pocket, threw on his coat and boots, grabbed his gun and headed for the door.

“Thank you again, Sian. For everything.”

“Of course. Take care, sweetheart.” Sian wished Cade goodbye for good as he closed the door behind him. The young man was alone in the cold for the first time.

He begun to walk down the early morning streets. Fresh icicles snapped from rooftops around him. Looking at the note again, “4th street. Bay 10,” started to get nervous. It was a recommendation from a close friend, but an unknown source nonetheless.

He walked past brick and wood built shops. “Pete’s Bridal,” “Tom’s Bistro,” and even a pawn shop. His torn coat fluttered in the wind, his boots fell apart with each step. As he passed a haberdashery, it occurred to him that he should probably go in, buy supplies to better fit the harsh conditions.

A little bell gang as he opened the glass door, which was outlined in dark wood painted green. “Greetings, friend!” cheered the hefty clerk behind the counter. He wore a red vest over white button down shirt and arm garter. “What can I do ya for?”

He spoke in a slight accent resembling that of cockney. Covering his small brown eyes were wire framed spectacles. His face was complete with a dark, handlebar mustache that moved when he spoke.

“I need clothes.” he told the shopkeeper, thinking nothing of his obvious statement.

“We got tons of that, boy,” he noticed his tattered outfit, “but do you got what I need?”

Cade revealed the shimmering case from his pocket, “right this way, sir.” he stumbled, leading his customer to the display.

“Thank you.” Cade pushed past him with little concern for his well being.

“You going hunting?” He asked, noticing the rifle. He shook his head, causing the clerk to go into a state of panic. “Then I’ll ask you to leave all firearms by the door.”

Obeying, he put his father’s old gun by the door and continued to browse. Cade pulled several garments from the rack and placed them on the counter: a new navy blue coat, black slacks, a pair of sturdy suspenders, leather gloves, a white dress shirt and a pair of heavy, leather boots to complete the purchase.  

“You want a custom fitting?” The clerk asked, “any man of your economic status deserves only the best.”

“I’m fine.” Cade insisted.

“You sure?” The salesman continued, “we do quality work here--”

“I said I’m fine!” He begun to raise his voice, scaring the man.

Leaving the building, he was suited in the new outfitting with his rifle secured in his hand. He placed his old flat cap on his head, for it wasn’t too badly burned, and walked to the location Sian gave him. It was a far walk from the haberdasher , halfway across the town, closer to the factories.

It was nearly an hour before he arrived at 4th street, a stone road covered in a thick layer of frost with newspapers strewn about. A poster blew past Cade’s feet, a propaganda piece reading: “Cornelius Brand loves all!” In bold letters. Underneath the heading was a sketch of a tall man in a top hat throwing roses to the people. Cade presumed the figure depicted was Cornelius Brand, whomever that may be.

He walked slowly through the narrow street, watching the numbers on the sides of brick buildings go by. “Eight,” “Nine” and finally, “Ten.” He pushed the doors to the rotting building out of the way and entered the ramshackled room. It was a large, grimey room, with nothing but steam engines lined up against the walls. Great metal machines with cog wheels on the sides, reminiscent of the ignighter.

On the far side of the long room was a gaping hole letting the faint morning light enter. Cade walked across the concrete floors until he was immersed in the fresh winter’s breeze, where he found himself standing on the wooden deck of an air dock. The center of the dock was obstructed by a gargantuan zeppelin, its wooden frame and cabin was secured to the canvas with copper bindings.

Looking around the snow covered landing bay he noticed nobody was there. Cade crossed to the ship and begun turning the wheel to open the iron door. With a loud creak it opened, warily the wandering man entered. “Hello?” he yelled within the cabin, “anybody here?” There was no answer, only the hum of the light bulbs which were attached to the ceiling.

Walking through a narrow corridor, had finally allowed Cade access to the bridge. The room was filled with brass steam valves, elevation controls along with a compass. In the middle of the room was a wooden steering wheel that faced a glass windshield. He let his hand run across the wood finish, taking in the ship's beauty.

      "What are you doing in here?" Behind Cade came a salty voice belonging to a young, thin man. His pale skin was secured by a mask of soot. He lifted his leather goggles onto the mop oh ginger hair. "This is a private vessel!"

      "I'm sorry, sir," Cade handed the man Sian's letter, "I was told somebody here can help me. I was sent here by Sian. Do you know her?"

      The thin man studied the handwritten note. "So you know Miss Sian?" He asked.

      "Yes, she served my family for years."

      "Your family?" The man had a sudden revelation, "you're Alek's boy?"

      "You knew him?" Cade asked, eagerly.

      "Of course, this is your father's ship, The Avis. I'm his pilot." He continued, "the name's Jesse."

    "Hi, I'm Cade."

    "So how's your father doing?" Jesse inquired.

    "He's dead." Case answered without blinking.

      "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Jesse picked up a wrench from the counter and started fiddling with the knobs on the wall, "so what do you need?"

     Cade was shocked by Jesse's lack of emotion, "I need passage to Sorden."

     "I can do that for a Laminar  ." He smiled, crossing to the wheel to man the helm of his ship.

      Within minutes The Avis ascended into the sky. Large propellers started pushing it forward on its trip to the industrial city of Sorden.  

     "We should be there by tomorrow morning, so you can get comfortable." Cade clutched his gun tightly, "this your first time on an air vessel?" Jesse asked.

      "Yeah, first time." He looked out the window upon the white land moving quickly beneath them. "Last time my father and I went into town we took the train."

    Jesse examined his passenger's longing expression, "how'd your father die? If I may ask."

"The house caught fire. It killed everybody. My whole family and the love of my life." Cade wiped the tears from his eyes and whispered in shame, "I killed them."

     "Excuse me?"

He had begun to think of something that was on his mind since the accident, but could barely admit it to himself, let alone Sian. "I left my fireplace on." He choked out, "it's the only explanation. I killed everyone I've ever cared about."

"Cade, I'm sorry." Jesse stumbled for a response, "these things happen."

The orphan clutched his belongings and left the bridge, hurrying to the passenger cabin down the hall. Closing the door behind him, he lay down on the luxury bed, closed his eyes and fell into a tear induced sleep.

When he woke up The Avis was lulled; the sound of its engine was silent and the zeppelin did not move. In a stupor he made his way through the halls to the bridge ahead of him. The room was empty, Jesse was nowhere to be seen. The only thing that caught Cade's eye was the gleaming buildings outside the window. He ran down the pristine hall paying little attention to his surroundings. The main door flung open letting Cade into outside world.

Streets were overcrowded with citizens of Sorden, all with their own agenda. The sky was not only filled with airships and balloons but the smoke from the distant factories. Vendors and shopkeepers made their claims and rang their bells. Large wooden beams supported miles of telegraph wires. Cade took several steps off the ship and onto the snowy dock. He walked slowly to the main street, into an unknown future.

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

  
  


    The buildings were each at least fifty feet tall, with the exception of a few shops. All the different races of Drania converged at this great city trying to make ends meet in a hectic life.

Cade scanned around the deck looking again for Jesse, nobody was there. Looking down, he noticed something, the leather goggles that belonged to the pilot. He assumed it was a simple mistake and that Jesse had forgotten them. Cade strapped them to his pants for safe keeping and left for “The Dusky Desire,” where he expected to meet up with his connection.

Hurrying down the dusty streets, Cade found himself in the busy center of Sorden, full of shops and bakeries alike. A Brethet child was shining shoes by a newsstand run by a Gekorian man. Several Camors congregated by a pub smoking cigars, beside them was a small Dorn child selling newspapers.

Dorns were another breed of elves, usually with a yellow complexion and thick brows. Their knifed ears were always seen protruding from their silky hair as a sign of respect to their god, Morthan, who fought for the Dorn's equal rights.

Across the hustling street Cade noticed a man with his motor buggy. It was made from dark wood and gold trim, spitting steam from the chimney on the roof. Pushing past the passing citizens, he made his way to the driver, who was dressed in a black leather suit.

"Excuse me," Cade caught his attention, "I need a ride in your motor carriage to "The Dusky Desire'."

The man looked at Cade's hopeful expression. "Ya mean that grimey nightclub? "But you're just a kid."

"Please," he demanded in a polite composure, "it's important. I'm willing to pay."  

He thought for a moment before caving, "alright. Hop on, lad."

"Thank you!" Cade jumped into the coach and made himself comfortable on the leather bench. The driver took control of the steam powered car and started the engine, with a jolt it moved.

Cade could feel every bump in the cobble road, rocking him back and forth. Outside the cab he saw the city come to life. Metal grates on the sidewalk let out the steam of the underground system in billowing clouds.

The cab arrived at the club within a half hour. Cade got out of the passenger cabin and tossed the man a few Drans. The driver removed his pipe from his mouth, "thanks, kid." He called to him, as he walked to the stone building.

The thick door opened and closed, allowing Cade entrance into a world of sleaze and fabricated extravagance, he looked over the railing to find a stage and bar on the lower level--accessible through adjacent stairs. The room was dark, with stained glass pillars holding the only lights, a pianist played, waiting for the next act to begin.

He walked down the stairs to a bar, stocked with ales and spirits from every corner of Drania. The bartender was bent over, looking for a bottle to serve for tonight's show.

"Briggs?" Cade asked, knocking on the counter, "is that you?"

"Who's there?" The man replied gruffly.

"It's me, Cade"

"Cade?" He smiled, standing up, he was a tall, youthful Dorn man. "Oh I'm so glad to see you're safe! I heard about your family, I'm sorry."

Cade puzzled, "how'd you know?"

"It's not everyday the entire Laminar   family dies." He caught himself, "or, almost the entire family."

"Look, Brigs, I need help."

"What kinda help're you lookin' for?" He asked sincerely.

Cade sighed, he hadn't really thought about what he needed, "I don't know.” He admitted, “Shelter, food, a way out."

Briggs thought for a moment, "the only way to survive around here is with a job and I'm afraid the only places hiring out-of-towners are those factories."

"Is there nothing I can do otherwise?" He was panicking.

"I'm sorry, Cade," he poured Cade a shot of whisky, "it's on the house." Cade consumed the beverage, along with several more making conversation with Brigs.

"I have a thought," he told Cade after the fifth shot, "there's a dancer here tonight who might be able to help you. She knows the streets better than anybody."

"What's her name?" He asked eagerly.

"Annabelle Barroway, I believe." He continued, "you're welcome to stay until she's done."

"Thanks, Briggs!" Cade was enthusiastic.

"Oh, Cade," he stopped him, "ya might wanna leave your gun with me."

He dropped his rifle off at the bar and took a seat at one of the tables in the audience.

The band begun to play as several girls ran onto the stage and struck a sexually appealing pose. Briggs came onto the stage, dressed more formal than before. With a long winded speech he introduced the dancers pointing to each girl.

Finally, when he reached the girl to the far right he shouted, "...and the lovely Annabelle Barroway!"

He fled the stage, to the sound of thunderous applause from the spectators as a heavy set woman ran to her microphone at center stage.

With an upbeat, jazzy tempo the singer opened her burlesque production. The girls, including Annabelle, sensually danced to the her every word. They wore revealing, deep purple corsets and skirts with black ribbons and bows.

Annabelle was the most beautiful of the dancers, a young woman, about one year older than Cade, keeping her silky, straight brunette hair up with pins. Golden medallions hung from her skirt. Underneath she had on fishnet stockings and leather boots.

The voluptuous girls produced thick feathers from behind them, creating a rhythmic dance routine with a delicate balance. They soon took to stomping their feet to the beat as the choreography had instructed.

Cade enjoyed the show with his drink in hand, this was the first time he donned a smile since before the fire, when he and Emily laughed by the frozen lake. The recollection of that time was heart wrenching for him, however the pain disappeared more with each and every sip.

The leading lady belted her final notes through the microphone, holding it sideways by the stand. Finishing the cabaret with a flourish of her black dress, letting the velvet curtains close around her and the girls. the crowd went crazy, men hooting and calling for the pretty damsels to come back to their objectifying eyes.  

Cade left the club scene through the front door, with his gun secured in his frost grip, walking around the building to the back where the dancers were packing up their supplies.

“I’ve had it with your missteps, young lady!” It was the voice belonging to the fat singer, “You are fired!” She was scolding Annabelle who was still in costume.

“Madame Laurette, please I promise I’ll--” Annabelle made a desperate plea to her boss.

She interrupter, “No I have had it, you have no talent, missy! Good night!” Madame Laurette left Annabelle alone in the cold.

“Well fuck you too!” She called from behind, before whispering to herself, “Damnit!”

“Hello?” Cade was weary, “are you Miss Barroway?” She nodded, pulling out a cheap ignighter and lighting a cigarette.

“You were great up there,” He was trying to flatter her to no avail.

“Sorry, kid, I don’t do autographs.” She retorted sharply.

He was off put by her tough exterior, “I’m sorry, that’s not why I’m here.” She looked at him with a new  perspective, “Briggs said you can help me.”

“I bet you I can, but it depends on what you need,” she smirked, “and what you’re willing to pay.”

He revealed the coin case, “I can pay whatever you need. Briggs said you know this place better than anyone.”

She smiled, “I do, what do you want?”

“I don’t know, help me around here.” he begun to ramble, “I was told I’d be forced to work in the factories.”

“Yeah, Cornelius Brand doesn’t take kindly to outsiders taking our jobs.” Annabelle glared at him, “Where are you from?”

Cade told her the simplified version of his story, all about his family’s death. the one detail he left out was Emily, who had slipped his mind. She didn't seem too interested in his story. “So you’re a Laminar  ?” she asked.

“Yes, I was just hoping you could at last get me through the night. Maybe find me an alternative to factory work.”

She gave this request some consideration, “sounds like what you need is Mendacium.”

“I’m sorry, Mendacium?” he asked, “I’m not familiar with that.”

Annabelle laughed at his innocence, “C’mon back to my place, we’ll talk where it’s warm...er”

They walked together in the snow by the light of the gas lamps that line the streets. Annabelle got the lead, passing Cade, who was desperately trying to catch up. It was now that Cade noticed her dress was longer in the back than it was in the front, he also saw her golden medallions were actually a necklace strung around her waist.

Having passed several apartment buildings the pair reached an entrance to the underground. They filed down the stairs alone, nobody else was there in that leaky tube. Once they reached the brass gates, which were kept by a teller in a red uniform.

"Two for the train." Annabelle said, as if she had done so before.

"Four Drans please." The man replied. She nudged Cade, who handed the teller the amount owed.

"Right this way." He pointed to the turnstiles, which matched the gates and everything else in the station.

They crossed the tiled floor to the gold, and grimy, underground train where two sliding doors stayed open. Cade and his guide took their seats on the leather bench, letting the machine move them.

It roared down the tracks in a rush of steam, inside it was quiet. The only other passengers were several men and women in dark coats and hats across from Cade. "So where are we going?" He asked.

"Home," she continued, "I live in a tenement, downtown."

"And what's this thing you're talking about?" He struggled to remember the name, "Mend..Mand...something."

"I told you!" Annabelle interrupted, "we'll talk when we get there."

The strange group at the other end of the train gave Annabelle a curious look, before taking it back quickly.

"Who are they?" Cade asked.

"They look like government agents," she told him, "the brutes of Drania."

"Why are they staring at us?" Cade was out of his element.

"I don't know," she was starting to speak in a whisper, "stay quiet, though."

"Should we get off at the next stop?" He was getting worried, paying no attention to her order.

"Shut up!" She corrected.

The leading officer dispersed left his group and menacingly walked to Annabelle. "Excuse me, miss," his voice was cold and sharp, "we're going to need your companion to come with us."

She remained composed, holding her ground. "What are the charges?"

"That is the business of Cornelius Brand."

"That's not an answer." She locked eyes with him. The man was unrelenting, his inferior officer, a harsh woman with blonde hair, came up behind him placing her bony hand on her shoulder.

"Brand would like to have a word with the outsider." She glared at the two civilians.

“Now if you’ll come with us we can--” The male officer could barely finish his sentence. Annabelle had struck him in the nose letting blood gush out and onto his hand.

“What the hell are you doing?” Cade was in shock. The other guards came at her, all wielding batons and clubs. With rapid punches and fiery kicks she disabled each soldier, letting each drop to the floor in momentary pain.

A bulky agent got up from the ground wiping blood from his face. He took off his red stained trench coat and swung a bare fist at the agile dancer. She dodged his blow and thrusted her side against his, sending him into the rattling wall of the train. The officer’s bald head bled profusely, staining Annabelle’s dress and skin in the process.

“What was that?” Cade ran to her side, “what the hell was that?”

“It’s nothing.” she tried to get up but collapsed under her own weight, “in this town, things like this are necessary.”

“Are they dead?”

“No,” she looked at the blood covered cop, “at least I don’t think so.”

“Those people were looking for us,” Cade was scared more than he let on, “if we were wanted then, imagine how they feel about us now?!”

Annabelle snapped at him, “you wanted to learn how to survive! This is how.” Her voice weakened as she grabbed the copper pole, that stood in the center of the moving car, and hoisted herself up onto the bench.

Cade watched as blood ran down her leg and wrist, “let me help you.” He said as he ripped fabric from one of the officer’s uniform and tightened it around her wounds creating a makeshift tourniquet. She smiled at him, an unspoken sign of respect.  

Cade got off at the first stop, helping Annabelle walk. She was supported with her arm slung over his shoulder. They left the warmth of the tunnel for the frozen streets. Cade and Annabelle hobbled through the ice that glistened with the light of the moon.  

“How are you feeling?” He asked her on the long walk.

“Better, thanks.” The battered girl looked up from her feet and to the road ahead. “We’re close. It’s that brick building on the right.”

Cade moved quickly to get them out of the cold. At the top of the steps in front of the building was a wooden door with shattered glass windows. Annabelle pulled a silver key from her corset and unlocked the door, leading them into a dimly lit lobby.

They stumbled up three flights of stairs before reaching her unit. She used to same key to open her apartment door. The inside was nothing to behold, slimy and falling apart. A few pieces of cheap furniture lay scattered across the warped, wooden floor. Spot lights from passing airships occasionally let a white light into the dark room, illuminating a single cot in the corner of the room.

On the table was an open chest full of random objects, each one more valuable than the last. A gold watch, pearl necklace, and about sixty dollars worth of Drans dusted in the box, among other things. He was baffled, for such a grungy home she had great treasures. It soon became clear that they were acquired through impure acts.

Cade laid her down on the rough canvas, reaching over for her tattered quit, that lay on the sofa, he noticed she was fast asleep. He placed it over her freezing body and left her alone. Cade left the apartment and ran up the creaky stairs to the flat roof of the building.

He set his rifle beside the roof access door, crossing alone to the half wall overlooking the city. He took in the surrounding landscape, watching as smoke rose from factories and homes. The weary man removed his hat, letting the freezing winds cool his head. It felt wonderful to to be able to relax for a moment, to stop running was a relief. He leaned over the wall, taking in the frosty view for an hour, never once forgetting his recent memories.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Rang a pleasant voice from behind him. Cade turned around to find Annabelle by the door. Her hair was down now, letting her glowing eyes reflect the world around her. It was here that he noticed her eyes for the first time, they were two different colors. On the left was a glassy blue and on the right was an emerald green.

She wrapped a delicate, black shawl around her arms and advanced towards Cade. The blood soaked, white pieces of linen were still coiled around her arm and leg.

“Yeah,” he managed, “beautiful indeed.”Annabelle hobbled to the wall, mimicking his action of leaning over it. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Much better,” She examined her bandage, “It must’ve just been a scratch.” They both took in the view, Cade took note of the passing zeppelins whose spotlights shone brightly.

“You don’t think those things are looking for us, do you?”

She caught a glimpse of the passing ships, “why would they?”

Cade scoffed, “we beat several officers half to death. Not to mention, they were already looking for me.”

“What did they want with you?” she asked, innocently.

“How should I know?” Cade countered her movement, walking around her and to the closed door, where he sat in the snow. “All I know is that this ‘Brand’ guy has some reason to see me, and I don’t like that. Who is he anyway?”

“You’re really sheltered aren’t you?” Cade frowned, he’d heard that before. “Cornelius Brand is our leader. All of Drania bows to his egotistical will, his reign doesn’t reach too far south, though.”

“That would explain why I’ve never heard of him.”

“I swear that man is evil incarnated.” Her witt went right over his head, “To make things worse, he’s been in power for over twenty years. People are made to believe their voice matters during the elections but it never does. I don’t know anybody who actually votes for that man.”

Cade remembered the glamorized poster that blew by his feet in Crestbrook, depicting Cornelius Brand as a hero. He then remembered what he and Annabelle had talked about by the club. “What was that thing you mentioned before?” The name again slipped his mind, “Mend something.”

“Mendacium? I can’t believe you’ve never heard of it before.” She laughed, remembering his sheltered past, “Tell me, what do you know about geography?”

“The basics, what my teacher taught us.” he recalled a few lessons from his childhood, “I know about the seven major cities and a few of our islands.” Drania having had twenty-six neighboring islands all under control of Cornelius Brand.

“So nothing about Mendacium?” Annabelle pointed out to the distant mountains, beyond the billowing smoke. “Up north, past the mountains into unknown territory is the city of Mendacium. It’s really only a legend, but it is said to be a utopia. A place completely disconnected from Brand and his tyranny.”

Cade was intrigued. “So you’re saying that’s where we should go?”

“It’s only a myth,” she watched the banners on the factories flailed in the distance, “it doesn’t exist.”

“It sounds like anything could be better than here, from what you’ve told me.” He took a moment to himself, before joining her by the ledge. “Where did all those treasures come from?” he asked, referring to the wooden chest in her apartment.

She sighed, regretting having to admit her deeds, “it takes more than dancing to make money in Sorden.”

He saw the shame in her mismatched eyes, “You stole them, didn’t you?”

“They say I’m the best survivalist. But I’m just a pickpocket.” Annabelle frowned, “Look, kid, I can help you survive but remember that there is no place like Mendacium.”

“It’s Cade,” He corrected, “the name is Cade.”

She smiled at him, “then call me Anne.”

“So what am I going to do?” He was beginning to worry,  disappointment struck in at his fate, “I can’t stay in the city where I’m being hunted.”

“Brand isn’t even here. He lives in a grand mansion in Mirus.” She comforted him.

“Anne,” he started, “come with me.”

She was surprised and confused, “What? Where?”

“To Mencecium!”

“Cade, it doesn’t exist. Don’t you get that?”

“But the uncharted region does!” She was more confused than ever, “Far north is out of Brand’s reach. That’s where we should go! Even if there’s no utopia there must be something.”

Annabelle hobbled away from Cade, his words were scaring her. He was in a state of disarray, all over the place, making no sense. “You’re serious about this? Running off into the distance with no real destination sounds crazy.”

“What do you have here?” He persuaded, “I have an airship. We can leave tomorrow!”

“Ok.” Her silent words fell sharply against Cade’s ears, he was not expecting that.

Hope glimmered in his eyes, “really?”

“There’s sound evidence that it exists.” She admitted, “we can talk to Logan in the morning.”

“Who’s Logan?”

“ A friend. All of our questions will be answered by him.” That’s all she said before picking up Cade’s gun. “Let’s get some rest.”

She held the door open for Cade, letting him pass in front of her. Anne then followed him, letting the metal door, which was the only access to the roof--close behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

  


The apartment was cold the next morning, as faint light, muffled by clouds, pierced the cracking windows. “Get up!” Anne ordered, kicking his side. He woke up on the floor, wrapped in her tattered blanket. feeling the rough floor under his fingertips as he lifted himself upward.

When he finally opened his eyes he saw Anne was wearing the same bloodied dress from last night yet she was somehow able to maintain her rustic beauty under the damage. The delicate dancer slipped on a pair of brown leather gloves and combat boots before heading to the door, “I’ll wait for you outside.” She closed the door, allowing Cade time to himself. He used strands of spare linen to fasten his rifle around his back for easier transport; being already dressed in yesterday’s clothes, he was able to bolt out the door quickly.

The stone streets were wet from the drops of soft rain, filling the air with a muddy contexture. Smoke continued to blow out the massive chimneys of hazardous factories, agitprop banners were dripping from the salty air. They stepped through the slush of remaining snow to Annabelle’s connection, Logan.

“This is it,” she said, stopping over a iron manhole cover, “we take the sewers from here.”

Cade was distraught, but obediently helped remove the heavy grate. It was a dual effort but finally lifting it gave them a victorious entrance to the underground tunnels that rid waste. Slowly they descended down the rings of the ladder into the putrid tunnel of human waste.

Rain water trickled through the wrought iron drains, leading into the murky bile. Anne led her follower through the sewage for an hour treading in waist deep fluids. Rodents of all type scurried up the pipes away from the foul sludge. “Remind me again why we’re going through the sewers!” Cade complained.

Anne sighed, “Logan’s store is far,” she continued, “and I’d much rather avoid another conflict.” They followed the same path, closer and closer to the aforementioned store.

A mile down the tunnel Cade heard noises of terror through the drain window, “Are we to allow Cornelius Brand’s prize to leave us?!” a government agent, in a red coat, shouted to a crowd of screaming supporters.

The group replied with a booming, “No!” resulting in cheering.

Cade perched himself upon the wall, peeking his eyes through the slats between the vertical bars. To his horror, he saw hundreds of men and women yelling to the agent who stood atop a wooden platform. Beside him were two men easily recognizable by Cade, Briggs and Jesse were bound by their hands and feet with nooses slung around their necks and gags in their mouth.

The leader of this act spoke again, “These traitors to Drania have aided the prize on his journey! What do you think of that, folks?” The screaming citizens voiced their opinions.

“Let them hang!” A man called with hatred.

“This is a crime!” argued a witnessing woman, “Brand is a crook!”

The agent smiled as he grasped the golden handle of a lever, with one pull to the right both Briggs and Jesse hanged. Spectators shuttered at the sight of their necks breaking from the fall. “This is what awaits all supporters of the prize if he is allowed to flee! All our leader wants is to have a word with him and he refuses to cooperate!”

Cade slunk into the water, trying to wipe the gruesome images from his mind, “I guess Brand does have supporters.” he whispered to himself, but loud enough for Annabelle to hear.

“What is going on?” She was in a panic, “Why are they executing people? Who is this prize?!” Anne was crumbling under the weight of the situation.

“I think it's me.” He broke the palpable tension, “I got those people killed. I’m putting you in danger!”

“We don’t know that,” she reassured him. “but perhaps we shouldn’t bring Logan into this.”

“No,” He stood up, “we need to get the fuck out of here more than ever!”

Anne turned on her flimsy ignitor, which had previously lit her cigarette, using it for light she guided Cade deeper into the caverns. The water became more shallow, as they pressed against the steamy halls, reaching their ankles. Cylinder walls of concrete formed a complex labyrinth under the streets, winding up and down metal pipes. The duo eventually reached a brick wall with a mounted ladder and climbed up it as quickly as possible.

They surfaced by a rocky building on the streets, being ever so careful to not arouse suspicion. In front of the building was a parked motor car, its driver was on the floor and at the mercy of two agents. They clubbed the poor chauffeur with the butts of their guns, demanding answers, “We know you gave the prize a ride yesterday!” The man spewed blood from his mouth and through open gashes on his face, he lay writhing in pain.

“I do not know what you mean!” He cried out, expecting them to move along. The truth is, he looked nothing like the man who gave Cade a ride to the club, but the agents didn’t seem to mind, preferring to murder innocent people; the driver stopped begging, ceasing his pained whales, and died in a pool of blood.

“I can’t believe I ever thought this place was beautiful.” Cade murmured to himself and Anne.

She gave him a cold response, “It’s not just Sorden. Your little mansion was just to shield you from the truth.” Cade had grown tired of hearing this from people.

He followed her lead through the side door of Logan’s shop, away from the street brutality. The room they wound up in was a mere storage room, full of wood crates labeled with the names of cities and towns from all over Drania. They walked through the large chamber of imports and through the door to the main room.

“Who the hell goes there?!” The dark skinned man behind the counter shouted, aiming a wood and copper pistol at the pair.

“Logan, It’s me.” Anne raised her hands slowly as a sign of peace between them.

“Oh, Annabelle,” he lowered the gun, “forgive me, you can’t be too careful, especially with what’s been going on lately.”

“What has been going on?” Cade stepped in, surprising Logan.

“Didn't see you there, friend,” he stepped out from behind the register and in front of Cade. His hair was kept in long black dreads, knotted at the end. A pair of cheap leather goggles were strapped to his forehead, which matched the material of the rest of his outfit. “It seems our friend, Brand, is lookin’ for somebody. Somebody he calls his ‘prize’.”

The young man admired Logan’s sarcastic wit, “what do you know about his prize?” Cade added.

Logan walked to the bay window that stood at the front of his supply shop, lifting the curtain he watched as several officers interrogate a woman and her children; it was best not get involved. “All I know is Mr.Brand has been seeking this prize for twenty years. he kept tellin’ people that ‘one day he’ll come and my mind will be at peace!’ I don’t know what it means, only that it sounds like a big deal.”

Behind Logan was a large banner with Cornelius Brand’s likeness, with a black mustache and thick hair dressed in his usually outfitting, his glassy eye winking through his monocle. The message on the banner read: “My prize will bring a new life!”

Anne intervened on the conversation, “excuse me, but this isn’t why we came here.” Logan was intrigued, “We need the quickest route to the forbidden area.”

“Don’t tell me you’re goin’ to Mendacium,” neither Anne nor Cade flinched, “are you serious?”

“I know it’s a myth,” she explained, “but we need to get out of the city. We’re afraid Cade, here, might be Brand’s prize.”

The proprietor was shocked by her words, taking them in slowly before producing a wrinkled map from beneath his counter. He charted out a path for Anne, showing her the best way to reach the uncharted territories.

“So why is this place forbidden?” Cade asked, doubtful of the answer.

“Did your folks never talk about this?” He shook his head at Logan’s question, “Well there are three basic theories. Number one being that there’s nothin’ up there and it’s too treacherous to survive. The second is said to be the lies of the government to keep people under Dranian rule. Lastly, the third leads us to believe there is a utopia away from Brand, but is off limits to maintain his power.” He scribbled a few more notes onto her map, “You can think what you want, I personally believe in the first option, that there is nothing, and we are destine to die like pigs under Brand.”

Logan portrayed a pessimist well, his weary eyes showed no signs of hope or aspiration. Purely the desire to live a life not his own, much the way Cade thought back when he was fortunate enough to have dreams.

“Logan?” A dark skinned woman descended the wooden stairs of the store, “Logan, I saw three men outside pointing officers to our store.”

“Stay calm, Diana,” He dropped his prior task and comforted his beautiful, yet rugged, wife, “everything will be fine.”

“I hope so.” She whispered to him. She had hair similar to Logan’s, in long dreads, except her’s was kept under a red bandanna. Her simple, homemade, dress stood still on her body. It had nothing to do, no wind to sway to in the box-like store.

The front door shuttered with the rapid knocks from outside. Diana jumped, grasping her husband’s shirt tightly. “We’re coming in!” The main room of the shop was infiltrated by the two officers who previously bludgeoned and interrogated civilians. “We’ve been informed that you folks might know where the prize is.” They seemed to have missed Cade, who had slunked into a corner upon their arrival.

Anne, Logan and his wife remained silent, their eyes darted back and forth looking for Cade. The officer's rifles became upholstered from their backs, with glimmering bayonets at the tips, “We know the prize is here somewhere, we have eye witnesses. Best make it easier on yourselves, you’ve seen what we do to traitors.” Diana cried, holding tighter than ever to Logan’s clothes.

Cade sat quietly, loading the bullets one by one into his father’s gun, finally it clicked, the sound of his completed task. He clutched it tightly, sneaking around the room unnoticed by the government officers.

“Hello, little lady.” One of the officers, a skeevy man a sharp gaze, said as he grabbed Anne’s dark hair and slammed her head against the counter, “I’ll ask you again! Where is the prize?!” Cade cringed at her torture, he had his gun ready, but it was he who was not ready. He wanted to help, but didn't know how. The young man could not yet bring it upon himself to strip a man of his life.

With the snap of his fingers, the skeevy man ordered his accomplice to take aim and fire two shots. Anne screamed as both Logan and his bride fell to the floor in an explosive heap of blood. Tears rolled down the poor girl’s eyes, with her mouth being covered by the officer, she used her eyes to express her pain to Cade, who was in shock.

The other man rammed the bayonet through Annabelle’s dress, piercing her thigh. Her pain filled whales overpowered her gag. “Where is the prize?!” They demanded, readying the rifle for a second blow.

The sharp eyes of the cop faded following the brutal sound of crunching bone. Cade had rammed the butt end of his rifle into the man’s head, disabling him in a burst of blood. The second officer’s eyes darted behind him in search of the assailant, only to see Cade’s bullet launch through his skull. The two men lay in heaps on the floor, along with the dark skinned shopkeepers.  

“Anne!” Cade dropped to her side, lifting the purple dress to examine her wound. it was deep, completely through her thigh, drenched in blood. “Ane, are you ok?”

“You let them die,” She was in full tears, the thin layer of eye makeup was running down her face, “Cade, you let them die! They protected you and you watched them die!” She was furious, screaming obscenities at Cade in between her sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he lowered his head, Cade’s voice was at a state of franticness relatable to Anne’s, “I’m so sorry, Anne.”

They sat in silence for a long, tensed moment, both let the blood circle around them. Anne’s contrasting eyes grew faint, they soon disappeared behind the wall of her eye lid. She fell to the stone floor in the sea of red, her delicate hair became stained with the life source of the victims.

“Anne!” Cade was worked into a frenzy, scrambling in the blood to her side. ‘Anne, Stay with me!” She was slipping away, the cold had almost consumed her body, retracting all signs of life. Pulling her hair out of her face, Cade noticed the black and blue gash on her scalp. Annabelle had gone slipped past the world of the living, but was not yet to the land of the dead. “Hold on!” He ordered, lifting her to the countertop while he rummaged the drawers for supplies.

He finally found a black leather bag with proper medical symbols. Quickly, he unsnapped the metal bindings and tore it open. Inside was the basics: bandages, needles, thread, a syringe, glass vials containing odd liquids and a pocket-sized medical guide.

He rapidly skimmed the pages, passing every known condition until he stumbled across Anne’s affliction, identifying it by the nasty bruise and sudden blackout. Cade followed the directions, administering a shot of the blue liquid into the veins on her arm. He waited a moment after the procedure, she was still lifeless. In the meantime he gave her leg the needed treatment, finishing it off with fresh wrappings.

Cade watched through the windows as rain trickled heavier than before. Several guards passed the building but, luckily, did not stop. His shirt and coat were splattered in vibrant blood, as was his face. he removed the hat, laying it to the side as he paced back and forth.

He could barely admit it to himself, but Anne was dead and more people had died by his misdeeds. He furiously kicked the counter, smashing several bottles that had been left out, only to collapse in on himself. In one of the ajar drawers was glass bottle of spirits, strong and aged to taste. He snapped open the top and took long sips, letting it empty before smashing it too.

Cade had given up, “If Brand wants his prize, he may have it.” He thought to himself, grabbing the rifle and heading to the door.  His hand was on the brass knob when he heard the faint sounds of life. Swinging around, he saw Anne coughing up heaps of blood; she was in agonizing pain, but she was alive. “Anne!” Cade ran to her, jumping over the corpses to the bloodied girl, “thank the gods, you’re alright!”

Her eyes flurried, “the gods don’t exist,” she protested quietly, “otherwise this wouldn’t be happening.”

Cade looked past her blasphemous words and embraced her, rocking gently back and forth, “welcome back,” he whispered. It was a solid minute before Anne returned the gesture and wrapped her arms around him in a warming huddle.

The vibrant woman was in a state of disrepair, she was weakened and in no condition to carry onward. “We should stay here for a bit, let you rest up.”

Annabelle was not thrilled with the idea of lagging in a dangerous location, but she remained optimistic, “we’ll leave at sundown, the night should provide better cover.” After the decision was made Anne made note of the bodies that scoured the room. “We should probably do something about them.”

Knowing she could not help, on account of her wounds, Cade carried the deceased one at a time into the storage room, laying them to rest atop wooden crates. The guards were placed in a lackluster pile, confiscated of any useful supplies. Logan and his departed wife were lain across several boxes in a much more respectful manner. After examining the corpses he noticed something wrong and in attempts at a final apology, he entwined Diana and Logan’s hands together, it was the least he could do for getting them murdered.

Cade left the concrete room to the front, where Anne was rummaging through cabinets and drawers alike. “What are you doing?” He asked her, befuddled by her ability to walk.

“Arming myself.” She replied, mordantly, pulling out a pair of matching daggers. They were a shimmering silver, with a braided leather hilt. Anne flipped them in the air, gracefully catching them and sheathing them in the golden chain around her waist.

“Where did you learn to use knives?” Cade questioned.

“You learn a lot on the streets.” She hesitated, “But I learned that from my father.”

He tried not to make eye contact, advancing towards her for a more intimate conversation, “were you two close?” He was trying to be considerate, but treaded on thin ice by the look on her face.

“He died when I was not yet a teenager.” continuing, but remaining distant she said, “But, yes, we were very close.” Anne removed the knives from her hips and placed them on the counter, then she unhooked the gold necklace and handed it to Cade. “My father gave this to me, before he died.”

The piece of jewelry was stunning, handcrafted and engraved with the finest of detail, small gems were attached to the sides. In the center of the elliptical medallion was small scripture, reading, “The love, the strength, the power you need is right here.”

Anne took the necklace from his hands and, again, tightened it around her waist with the daggers locked in place. “Father told me he saved his money, and had it specially made for me,” she explained, “but as i grow older I’m starting to believe he just stole it.”

Cade didn't know what to say, nor did he need say anything. Instead, he propped himself up against a wall with his rifle and rested his head. While Cade rested, still wide awake, Anne was busy preparing for the night. She had found the leather, side-slung messenger bag and loaded it with the medical kit, along with stray ammunition that lay in the drawers.

Several hours of monotonous lingering passed in unbroken silence. Finally the moon had risen, basking the dark, outside world in a luminescent glow. Cade handed her the parchment map while he fixed the bag over his chest along with the strap to his gun. “Are you ready?” He asked her.

She needed not reply, only a simple glance let Cade know what she was willing to do. They started out the back, through the storage chamber only to stop when Anne noticed the bodies. She watched the decaying hands form an eternal embrace, even in death their love shone brightly. Anne spoke her first words in hours, “thank you,” she muttered. It was Cade’s turn to stay silent, and with a nod they took off into the darkness.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

  
  
  


The night was colder than its predecessor, with crisp air freckled by new flurries of snow. Dim light from the gas lamps were momentarily shadowed by the passing pair. They ran down streets and alleys, avoiding all contact from the night watch. With the air-yard, that held the airship, just a half mile up the road, victory seemed certain.

Standing between them and escape was a large brick wall, surrounding the town center, where The Avis was docked. Officers and government agents patrolled the perimeter, keeping an eye out for movement. Zeppelins in the sky shown their searchlights upon the ground, doing the same task.

“They must’ve been tipped off,” Cade whispered, “they knew we’d be here.” Anne looked at him in a new light, she was impressed by his knowledge of the situation, he was learning.

The blockade was armed and on high alert, machine guns were stationed at each post, with a commanding officer barking orders and relaying intel. “The prize has been sighted coming to the air-yard.” Said a brethet commander.

Another officer, a stubby Dorn, added a few words, “our scouts tell us he is aided by an unidentified, female accomplice.”

Overhearing this, Cade and Anne gave each other looks of concern. Getting past the barricade would be nearly impossible, from their perspective. Anne examined her surroundings, looking for anything of use. There was nothing at first glance, just a brick building, that met directly with the fifteen foot wall.

They stood in the dusty clearing, hidden behind stray materials and abandon ship pieces, waiting for a miracle. Anne, in their moment of weakness, finally made a discovery. A telegraph wire, suspending from the rooftop of the brick building to the base of Cade’s airship. Suddenly, they were hit with a flash of white light; the searchlight from the zeppelin had spotted them, cooking their skin slightly from the heat. Its propellers blew around dust and dirt, surrounding Anne and Cade in a whirl of debris.

Two sliding doors opened on the side of the hovering ship, letting a female officer take the center stage. Her subordinate handed her a bulky microphone in which she was able to name her demands, “Hello, prize, your attempts at escape have failed.” Her words echoed through the vintage style device, “We need you alive. As long as you and your accomplice cooperate, you will not be harmed.”

They were standing now, looking up at the massive ship which monitored their every move. “She’s lying, Cade” Anne muttered over the noise. Her bloody, purple dress billowed around her; the white ruffles from underneath were now visible. “Shoot her.” He didn't listen, Cade was too transfixed with his perpetual defeat. “Cade, shoot her now!” She ordered, screeching at the top of her lungs.

Snapping out of his trance, he withdrew his rifle and with a precise shot, the woman’s head erupted in a fit of blood. Her body fell from  her perch and to the floor below. “Nice shot!” Anne remarked.

“Where are we going?!” He was terrified, besides the fact that he had just committed his third murder, he was also being hunted. Anne pointed him towards the doors of the building, quickly they made a run for it.

“To the roof!” She yelled.

The men on the wall and airships rapidly took their places at the guns, firing hundreds of rounds at the runaways. Cade fell to the floor in a fit of pain, “Shit!” he yelled. Anne helped him up, noticing three bullet wounds in his leg, arm and shoulder.

The escapees hobbled to the front of the building, upon the facade stood a glass double door with copper handles. Anne furiously shook the doors but neither would budge. “Fuck, it’s locked!” She has now lost her composure, frantically pawing at the glass.

Cade waved her away and, with the butt of the gun, he shattered the glass in two blows.  They immediately scurried inside, slipping past a fresh barrage of ammunition, that was rained on them. Anne and Cade found themselves in a stark, rotting room with no power.

The room was, what appeared to be, the lobby of an abandon inn. There were no stairs, only a single lift that ascended guests to their rooms. “Well, that complicated things.” Cade commented. Anne hurried across the cracked tile floor, where she manually opened the gates to the lift and allowed herself in.

Cade was confused, there was no power and no way to get upstairs. The dark lobby was infiltrated with the blinding light of the airships, followed shortly by several shots in the dark by the gunners.

“Anne?” Cade looked towards her for answers, his heart throbbed with the tension. She did not answer, rather removed a gold plate from the wall, revealing wires and cables. With her ignitor, she begun to cross them, unsuccessfully at first. “Anne, what are you doing?”

She merely sighed and with a disgruntled voice replied, “not now, Cade!” Quickly the lights in the elevator shone brightly, with a loud roar of the steam engine the lift slowly worked its way up the building’s side, they had no time for the proper safety regulations, and didn’t bother shutting the gate.

The metal box shuttered as the duo stood in silence. Cade noticed the look of helplessness on her face, something she had never displayed. “Are you ok?” He asked, quickly noticing the stupidity of the question.

“I’m fine, Cade.” Her swift response gave way to an uncertain frown. Her makeup, again, begun to run down her face.

“Look,” he started, “I’m sorry. I should’ve reacted sooner, it’s my fault Logan and Diana are dead.” He swallowed his pride, nursing his wounds with the kit the best he could.

The hollow apology flew right over her head, she simply turned to him with a hard face, “No, it’s not that.” Her expression had darkened, revealing truth behind her words, “I’m afraid, Cade. Not that we might get caught or killed. I’m afraid we’ll actually succeed.” Cade was confused by her words, “If we get to Mendacium, I will give up everything I ever held dear, and that’s not much.”  

He understood where she was coming from and with a gesture of sympathy he grabbed her hands, offering a choice, “If you want to go, Anne, I’m not holding you back.”

She looked him in his blue eyes and said, “I know, but now I’m holding you back.” Her words danced in Cade’s mind, confusing him even further.

Finally the elevator stopped at the penthouse of the building, with arching windows giving a bird’s eye view of the airfield. Beyond the random assortment of furniture and boxes stood a brass ladder which allowed for roof access. Anne climbed it first with Cade right behind her, each ring was ice against his hands.

She opened the hatch to the roof, letting in a draft of freezing air and newfallen snow. The ships quickly directed their attention to the rooftop, bellowing eerie warning sounds. The telegraph wire was flimsy, connected from the building down to the airship, where an operator patched in signals. Anne commanded him to sling his rifle around it, creating a makeshift zip-line. Both of them grabbed hold of the gun and made their way down the wire.

The cable shook violently in the wind, ready to give way at any moment. “Fire!” shouted a distant commander, who allowed his troops to rain bullets on the prize and his companion.

     Cade and Anne rode down the cable in sparking explosions, finally landing by the ship's main door. Anne used her sterling silver knife to slash the throat of an officer who drew his pistol. The ships continued their barrage, giving Cade a painful run to safety. He sat by the door in a heap of blood, with open wounds on his body.

     A government agent ambushed the crippled man, beating him with the rifle. It took all Cade's ability to reach for his gun, which lay just out of reach of his bloody hand.

Anne saw his struggle, finishing off an attacker with her knife, she kicked the gun to Cade. In his last attempt at escape he pulled the trigger twice, splattering his opponent in a fit of red.

The docking bay was finally clear, for now, they rapidly boarded the ship and locked the door behind them. Once in the control room, Cade glanced at Anne, "do you know how to fly?" He asked.

"No," she admitted, "how hard could it be?" Anne pulled the wooden handle, setting commands for the ship to rise in a furious shutter, letting steam out of the copper valves. With The Avis lifting of the ground, they were finally eye level with the government airship, seeing the angered faces behind a plate of glass.

A wall of bullets came at them instantly, "duck!" He yelled. The windshield shattered, letting pieces of glass scatter everywhere. When the round was out Anne turned the knob on her ignitor, lighting it at full blast, scorching flames shot from the brass device. With all hopes of luck aiding her, she tossed it violently at the adjacent ship.

The flaming projectile broke through their window; soon the cockpit of the government vessel was embellished in crackling flames. The terrified screams of Brand's drone-like servants echoed through the snowy night.

Cade instinctively thrust the wheel to the left, listing away from the wreck. Sorden was now a blip behind them, the entirety of Drania is in the horizon.

They followed the map's basic direction. It'd take at least a week to cross the continent by airship, which was the fastest mode of transportation. Anne was to make sure they didn't cross over any of the Seven cities that dotted Drania's map.

The first city they'd have to dodge was Brana, an entire city fitted under a crystallized dome, protecting it from the elements. It was about a day away from Sorden by airship. The plan was to circle it in a wide perimeter.

Cade sat on the leather bench, staring at his gun which was drenched his blood, not all his own. "Cade," Anne walked over to him slowly, letting the ship propeller straight for a moment. "Are you ok?"

"I've killed them, Anne." His voice was hoarse and weak, "I killed more people. Is this who I've become?"

"This is what you have to do," she held her hand in his, the blood stains synced, "we have to fight, Cade. Remember, we can't give up now."

He remained stoic, staring into space with his mind stuck in the recent deaths. "It never gets easier." Anne admitted to him, pushing her long hair off her face. She thought back to the elevator, Cade had changed since then, going from a man in charge to a weak child.

"When did you first do it?" He asked, soon realised what he had said, correcting it, "and by that I mean kill."

She sighed, examining the gold pendant around her waist. "I was fourteen and the first time on my own, right after my father died." She continued, "This man attacked me, pulled me into an ally and begun to..." Her voice trailed off, before coming back strong, "he tried to rape me, Cade."

He was intrigued, getting up from his seat and holding her arms tightly, "what happened?" He asked, terrified of the answer.

"What do you think I did, Cade?" her voice shook, "I killed him, I had no other choice. I stabbed his throat with my hairpin. There was so much blood." She lifted her hands, noting the resemblance to her story.

He pulled her in, forgetting immediately about his problems; comforting her was his main concern right now. "I'm so sorry, Anne. About everything," he looked her in the eyes, "I never should've dragged you into this mess."

Anne brushed off his apology, removing his coat and shirt, his back was studded with bloody holes. She reached into the medical bag for a pair of tweezers and a vile of rubbing alcohol. "Hold still." She comforted him, "this won't hurt much."

Reaching into his flesh, Anne removed a metallic bullet shard. "Shit!" He blurted out. The pain was unbearable, she had blatantly lied to him in her attempts to help him.

"Hold on," she got up from his side to the counter in the parallel room, returning with a bottle of Port and two glasses. "Drink up, it'll ease the pain." They drank several glasses each, finishing the bottle in minutes. Cade was more relaxed, the piercing instruments were nothing to him, now.

When the procedure was done, Annabelle wrapped him in bandages and redressed him properly. The two were groggy, Anne less than he was for she was more experienced.  

Cade left the shattered control room to the bedroom, where he found another bottle of liquor. When he returned, Anne was sprawled out on the floor, fast asleep. He, chivalrously, covered her with the bedsheets, forsaking a comfortable night in bed to lie beside her on the floor. His eyes closed in minutes, after a long day, he was finally asleep.

The two jolted upward to the sound of crunching metal. Steam seeped into the room violently, clouding their vision. Anne, studying the wooden dashboard, "they sabotaged the ship, Cade!" She cried out. She was right, the airship's engine exploded from a sabator’s efforts.

Dials and meters spun out of control, The Avis dipped downward, plummeting from the sky as it ruptured in flames. Cade grabbed hold of a mounted pipe, grabbing Anne by the hand, he pulled her to his level.

In a cloud of smoke, the ship sunk to the snow, nearly miles away from Brana. The space between the cities was nothing but a mountainous landscape, currently smothered in snow. Besides from a random assortment of villages and towns, only one railroad stood in this terrain.

The airship still maintained a level altitude; the two flung around like limp meat-puppets within the hull of the vessel. Anne’s hand gave way, her body plummeted to the snow below, “Cade!” she screamed in horror, falling to the snow.

The ship arched to the side, spilling loose content out the shattered windows. Cade gripped the brass pipe with all his strength. Finally it snapped, in an eruption of steam, Cade fell out of his ship to the white terrain.

His body slammed into the cold ground in a sudden shock of nerve, landing beside the crippled Annabelle. The stillness in the air was disrupted by the explosive crash of the ship. Rock, dirt and snow shot into the faintly lit skies. The fiery wreck was soon calmed by the heavy bouts of rain that followed the light snowfall.

Cade and Annabelle lay in the cold, both with their eyes shut tightly, flurries of charred canvas dotted the air, joined by the thick aroma of burning wood. The ship crashed far off course, meaning that they were closer to the city of Brana than they intended.

 

 


End file.
